"That's only right. No matter what happened in the past, you're still Tom's child. You certainly have the right to see him," Mr. Riddle said helplessly.
Dumbledore added, "You don't need to be so afraid of us. We an you no harm."
"Hmm… I can see that," Mr. Riddle replied. "Otherwise, going by what Tom used to say about your kind… I might already be dead at the gate."
"I've heard bits and pieces from others about what happened back then, but never the full story…" Dumbledore suddenly said.
Though young Tom appeared uninterested on the surface, the mont he heard Dumbledore bring it up, he imdiately straightened up.
He didn't want to rely solely on gossip to piece together what had happened. He wanted the account from soone who was actually there.
Back then… was it really his mother's fault?
What was the real reason his father had abandoned him and his mother?
Mr. Riddle hesitated for a mont, then said, "Before I explain… could you show … so of that… magic? Yes, actually, at first, I thought all that stuff Tom said was just nonsense he spouted while he was ntally unstable… I didn't think it was real."
Most of Mr. Riddle's fear of wizards ca from his son's exaggerated stories.
But truthfully, he had always harbored so doubt about his son's story.
Had he really been abducted by a witch? Or had he simply lost his mind?
It was only after his son gradually returned to normal that Mr. Riddle began to believe what he had said.
That was why, upon first eting Dumbledore and the others, he had shown such deference.
After all, no one who had managed to maintain such a large estate for this long could be a fool.
When you didn't know your guest's background, treating them with courtesy was always the wisest course of action.
"Of course," Dumbledore said, lightly flicking his fingers.
The pipe in Mr. Riddle's hand floated gently into the air, then transford into a rose midair.
Mr. Riddle stared in shock at the rose hovering in front of him, then slowly and cautiously reached out to catch it.
"This…" He examined it over and over, but without a doubt, it was an ordinary rose.
"How did you do that?" Mr. Riddle asked in astonishnt.
"This is magic, Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said gently.
The next second, the rose in Mr. Riddle's hand turned back into a pipe.
Even the tobacco inside was still burning, just as it had been.
In the past, Mr. Riddle might've complinted it as a clever trick.
But now… with his son's past experience in mind, he fully believed that this was a power worthy of reverence—magic.
"Alright… here's what happened…" Mr. Riddle began to recount the events of the past.
"My son, Tom Riddle, was once engaged to Miss Rivell from Little Hangleton. After their engagent, he would often ride over to see his fiancée…"
"He told that when passing a run-down shack along the way, he would always see a girl smiling at him. Out of politeness, he'd smile back…"
"One day… as he passed by that shack again, he suddenly felt thirsty, and that girl offered him a glass of water."
"According to him, after drinking that water… he suddenly fell in love with the girl living in the shack… he beca obsessed, disregarding everything—even his fiancée."
"The two of them pledged themselves to each other and lived together in that shack for a whole year… until one day…"
"He told it was like waking up from a long dream… only then did he realize that all the affection he'd felt for that girl seed like an illusion, a mirage. He couldn't believe what he'd done over the past year."
"At that mont of confusion, the girl told him she was a witch. She admitted that she had used a bit of magic to keep him by her side, but now that she was pregnant, she didn't want to deceive him anymore. So… she lifted the magic and hoped that Tom would stay of his own free will."
"But Tom was terrified… He ran back ho, afraid he'd be controlled by that witch again."
Mr. Riddle sighed. "Even though he ca back, he was never the sa again. The old Tom had been arrogant and a bit rude, but at least he was cheerful. After that incident, he never dared go out freely. He was always afraid that witch would co after him…"
"So, the mont he heard soone had shown up who looked just like him, he locked himself in his room out of fear—and hasn't co out since."
As Mr. Riddle finished his story, Dumbledore and Wade both turned to look at young Tom.
Tom's expression was complex, his hands clenched into tight fists, and he said nothing.
For a while, silence filled the carriage.
But that silence didn't last long, because the carriage ca to a stop.
The butler's voice called in from outside.
"Master, we've arrived."
Mr. Riddle nodded toward Dumbledore and the others. "Please, step down… My apologies—just to be certain of your intentions, I instructed the butler to circle the estate twice on the way back."
As Wade stepped out of the carriage, he clearly saw movent inside a house not far away. With his keen eyes, he also noticed several retreating figures—each one carrying a weapon.
It was obvious that if Mr. Riddle had sensed any hostility from them during the conversation... They would have been t with a hail of bullets!
But Wade found that perfectly understandable. In this era, how could a wealthy man not have so form of private security, even if it was discreet?
"Please co in." Mr. Riddle led Dumbledore and the others to a large mansion and welcod them inside.
The house was luxuriously decorated.
In the living room, a well-dressed elderly lady stood quietly beside the sofa, waiting.
When her eyes landed on young Tom, she instinctively clutched her cross tightly, murmuring prayers under her breath.
"Caroline, don't be afraid. They an no harm. And this child… yes, he truly is Tom's son," Mr. Riddle said.
"This is my wife, Caroline. Please forgive her—she, like Tom, was deeply frightened…"
Mrs. Riddle glanced again at the three of them. Seeing that they truly showed no signs of hostility, she finally let out a breath of relief.
Mr. Riddle then had the butler serve tea to Dumbledore and the others. While the tea was being prepared, he took the opportunity to explain their purpose to his wife.
"That… woman, is she really dead?" Mrs. Riddle asked hesitantly. "I'm sorry to ask that, but… she really brought many years of nightmares to our family—especially to my Tom…"
Now that he knew the full truth of what had happened, young Tom felt much less resentnt than before.
What his mother had done was… difficult to judge fairly.
And even if he wanted to lash out, neither Dumbledore nor Wade would support him in doing so.
"Yes. She died… right outside the orphanage," Our Tom said after a pause. "She gave birth to in the snow, and after handing over to Mrs. Cole, the head of the orphanage, she died."
Mrs. Riddle fell silent for a mont before speaking again. "Child… may I ask your na?"
"Tom Marvolo Riddle. Marvolo was my grandfather's na… It was the na she gave before she died," Tom answered.
Mrs. Riddle let out a sigh, as if sothing had finally beco clear to her.
"Bring Tom out," she said to the butler. "Let him et his son… Oh, and make sure to tell him—the one who brought him those nightmares… is no longer here."
"Yes…" the old butler responded, striding upstairs.
Mr. Riddle suddenly asked, "Child, since you were raised in an orphanage… what is your relationship with this gentleman?"
He was referring to Tom and Dumbledore.
Dumbledore explained, "I'm this boy's professor. Yes… Wizards have schools too. We enroll all children with magical talent and teach them how to properly use their powers, so they don't harm others by accident."
"So that's how it is…" Mr. Riddle was clearly intrigued by the idea that wizards had schools.
The two elder n began chatting, and through Dumbledore's explanations, Mr. Riddle learned much more about the wizarding world.
He ca to understand that wizards weren't inherently evil.
They stayed hidden mostly to avoid being hard by Muggles…
And that they had their own "governnt"—the Ministry of Magic—to oversee their affairs, so there was no need to fear them excessively.
Wade glanced at Tom, who was still silent, lost in thought, and gently patted his shoulder. He said quietly, "Hey, Tom, looks like this went a lot better than the Gaunt visit, don't you think?"
_________
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